The Hunter's Heart
by deepoceaneyes
Summary: In June of 1650, the lives of two very different individuals are about to change drastically. One, a beautiful girl who yearns for more. The other, a rugged and troubled Pirate who yearns for less. When fate brings these two together, will their love be able to conquer over all? This is a story full of passion, adventure, and, of course, a little danger. AU/AH
1. The Music Box

A/N: I've been working on this one for several months now. Inspired by the Mexican telenovela 'Pasion,' I bring to you my newest, original work. I really hope you enjoy, because I'm quite fond of the plotline I have in store for this tale. Please let me know what you think and if you would like to read more!

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_**Chapter One: The Music Box**_

**December 25, 1635**

**Portsmouth, England**

The ringing from the bell tower marked the end of the first hour.

The 10 year-old's short legs couldn't run fast enough.

He was outside the small, brick building when he heard the coughing. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he quickly swept them away. He had to stay strong.

The boy pushed back his dark hair away from his face as he sprung the wooden door open and stepped inside. A horrid stench immediately filled his nose as he approached the tiny room in the corner. It took everything in him not to vomit at the sight.

The sheets of the small bed were stained bright with blood and the floor was covered in vomit. In the middle of it all, lay his dying mother.

His father was kneeled beside her, stroking her hand. He looked up, a look of relief washing over his face.

"Damon, did you bring it?"

Damon nodded as he handed over the pitcher of water. His father took it with trembling hands and placed it carefully under her lips.

"You must drink Virginia," Giuseppe pleaded with urgency. Virginia only groaned and shook her head.

Damon took a seat on the edge of her bed next to his crying younger brother. He placed an arm over him and squeezed gently. "Stop crying Stefan," he whispered. "We must stay strong."

Virginia's eyes snapped open. "Damon," she creaked. "Damon, my son."

Giuseppe quickly stood up, grabbed Damon by his shirt and tugged him towards Virginia.

"Yes, mother. I'm here."

Virginia's watery blue eyes met Damon's own as she reached out a hand to lightly caress his pale cheek.

"My boy," she said softly. "My sweet boy."

Using all the force she had left in her, she reached under her pillow and took out a small music box. It was her most prized possession.

She gently placed it in Damon's small hands. "Open it."

The moment Damon unlatched the clasp, the top of the little wooden box sprung open and a sweet melody filled the air.

"The Hunter travels night and day

searching for what, I cannot say;

The Heart yearns what the Hunter fears,

For he knows it will bring only tears."

Virginia's own tears fall down her cheeks as her hoarse voice recited her lullaby.

"Oh, Hunter, there is no need to fret,

Following your Heart is your best bet.

For legend tells of a tale unlike any other,

Of a Hunter's Heart, son, listen to your mother."

As the tune died out, so did Virginia's voice. Damon placed the box in his trouser pocket and put his mother's hand on his right cheek.

"Please, don't go Mother," he pleaded in a small voice. Stefan's sobs got louder. "I don't know what to do without you."

Virginia gave him a small smile. "I'll always love you Damon. Follow what's in here," she gestured to his chest, "And you'll never be lost. Take care of your brother."

And with those final words, Virginia's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she flopped back into her pillow.

A stunned Damon was forcibly thrown off the bed by Giuseppe's strong arms as he made his way over to clutch Virginia's body. "Virginia! Virginia, darling! No…"

Damon bit his lips to keep from sobbing out loud and went over to little Stefan. "No more crying Stefan," he said softly, but sternly. "It's time to become a man."

As he led Stefan out of the room, Damon took out the music box and gave it a light kiss. It's all he had left of his mother now.

* * *

**June 1, 1650**

**Somewhere in the English Channel**

"Captain! A ship has been spotted! They bear the flags of the Royal fleet!"

The Captain's mouth turned upward into a smirk. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. He tightened the belt on his dark coat and placed his hand over his sword hanging down his side.

"Excellent. Prepare the ship for battle," he commanded, a tone of excitement in his voice.

"But Captain – "

"Now, Stefan," he rebutted swiftly.

"Of course."

Stefan turned to the crew and began shouting orders. "Ready the cannons! Batten down the hatches!"

The Captain stood on the quarterdeck, watching his crew scurry around, when a sudden wave of sadness hit him. He reached into his trouser coat pocket and took out a small, wooden box. His mother's music box.

"What would you think of your son now, mother?" Damon whispered.

"The ship approaches!" Stefan shouted.

Damon swallowed and placed the box back securely in his pocket.

Upon seeing the Royal flag approaching ahead, a large smile appeared on his face. This was going to be a good one.

* * *

**Portsmouth, England**

**House of Gilbert**

The beautiful bride stood in front of the long mirror staring at her reflection.

"Elena, dear, why do you look so miserable?"

Elena sighed as she tore of the veil from her head and threw it on the ground.

"You know why Caroline."

Caroline let out a deep breath as she picked up the veil and sat down next to Elena on the edge of her large bed, fluffing the skirt of her pink gown.

"You do realize how fortunate you are, right?" Caroline asked her, a look of envy in her eyes.

Elena shook her head. "Oh yes, I know." She stood up and angrily paced the room, her blue gown flowing around her. "I get to marry one of the richest men in town. Lord Richard Lockwood."

Caroline sighed in frustration. "He's much younger than your other suitors, and still relatively handsome! You're going to live like a princess! Have a life of stability!"

"But I don't care about that!" Elena said exasperatedly, heading toward the window.

She pulled back the lace curtains and stared at the glimmering ocean waters on the edge of town. "I don't want a stable, boring life," she said softly. "I want…something more."

"What?" Caroline asked, her green eyes thoroughly confused.

Elena let go of the curtains and looked back at Caroline. She clutched at her necklace tightly with one hand, while the other hand tucked a brown curl behind her ear.

"I don't know," she said in a quiet voice. "But I know I won't find it here."

* * *

"Where are you going Captain?"

"Stay here," Damon ordered as Stefan lowered him down in a small boat to the side of the ship. "I'll only be gone in hour. If I'm not back by sunrise, leave without me."

"Captain!"

"That's an order," Damon says, his blue eyes flashing.

"Of course," Stefan said, wiping the sweat of his brow.

With a quick glance behind him at his beloved ship, Damon made his way to shore. He took out a large, brown robe from his sack and put it on over his torn, blood stained clothing. Leaving the boat tied securely, Damon ran into the trees, knowing exactly where he was headed.

As soon as the town lights came into view, a smile spread across his face.

Portsmouth.

The place that had once been his home. The place that held all his best, and worst, memories.

The sound of heavy footsteps made Damon quickly hide behind a brick building. Sneaking a peek, Damon swore under his breath.

"Damn, British army."

Making sure they were out of sight, Damon placed the hood of the robe over his head, and walked quickly to his destination.

It didn't take him long before he arrived at the church and knocked twice lightly.

The door opened. "Come in," a frantic voice said. "Quickly."

Upon entering, Damon removed his hood, his face breaking into a grin. "Father William!"

The older man gave him a warm smile as Damon hugged him tightly.

"Son, what are you doing here? This is dangerous."

Damon squeezed the older man's shoulders. "I'm not a stranger to danger Father."

"No," the white-haired Father said, "but you shouldn't have come. There are guards everywhere, looking for your kind."

Damon nodded, stepping back from the man and pulling something out of his back pocket. "I know, but I needed to give you this." He extended his hand out to the Father, in it, a large sack of coins.

The older man shakes his head. "It's not necessary son…"

"I insist," Damon said sternly, forcing the man to take the bag. "It's been several months since I made a contribution."

Sighing, Father William grabbed the sack and set it out on a table behind him. He looked up at Damon, who had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Damon, son, when will you leave this life?"

Damon turned his head away and straightened up. "You know it's not possible."

"Yes, it is son, you just need to – "

"Enough Father," Damon waved a hand to shut him up. "This is my life now. This is what I was destined to be."

The Father opened his mouth to argue, but a loud bang on the door interrupted.

"Father, open this door!"

The Father looked up at Damon, his eyes wide. "It's the Royal guard," he whispered frantically.

Without another word, Damon gave the old man a quick hug, pulled the hood over his head, and jumped out the side window.

The moment his feet landed on the ground, a loud voice rang out, "Over there!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Damon sprinted off at full velocity. But the guard was relentless and quick on his tail.

Cursing, Damon was left with no choice but to hide. Spotting an open window, Damon hastily jumped inside and crouched down.

When the voices had died down, Damon stood up and let out a sigh of relief.

His hand automatically reached to his chest, and fear suddenly overtook him. His music box must've dropped when he rolled in. Getting on his knees, Damon frantically searched for it.

"Looking for this?"

In a millisecond, Damon was on his feet, his sword extended out.

The girl in front of him, holding the box in her hand, let out a soft gasp. With her other hand, she tightened her lace robe around her waist, and tugged her nightgown down nervously.

"Who are you?"


	2. First Encounter

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive response to the first chapter! I really hope you all enjoy this new chapter, especially as it includes Damon and Elena's first meeting! Believe me when I tell you though, that there is so much in store for this story. Action, mystery, romance, passion (that's right, steamy scenes) - this story will have it all! Please review and let me know what you thought!

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_**Chapter Two: First Encounter**_

The town of Portsmouth lay sound asleep, the streets completely bare, save for the occasional sounds of the royal guard scurrying about. But that was common these days. The people of the merchant town wouldn't feel safe if it weren't for the royal guard; a guard led by the rich and powerful Lord Richard Lockwood, who had moved to Portsmouth from London only a year ago. The Lord himself lay asleep, as his future beloved found herself face-to-face with the man he most despised.

**House of Gilbert**

"What do you want from me?" Elena asked strongly, though she was sure her entire body was trembling.

"Just hand over the box, and I'll be on my way," the mysterious man replied, still dangling his sword in front of him.

"Not before you tell me who you are," Elena said, taking a step back.

The man before her let out a soft chuckle as he lowered his sword, placing it back in the leather sheath hanging from the belt on his side.

"Trust me miss," he said in a low voice, "you do not want to negotiate with me."

He began to take large steps toward her slowly and Elena, frightened, backed away quickly, shielding herself on the other side of her large, canopy bed.

Fumbling slightly, as she attempted to keep a tight hold on her lace robe while at once clutching the music box, Elena grabbed the bronze candlestick holder on the drawer beside her bed.

She held the low flame in front of her, as the man made his way to the other side of the room, squinting her eyes to take note of his appearance.

She let out a small gasp as he lifted back his burlap hood. His face was covered in bruises and cuts, marked with traces of dried blood. His scraggly, dark hair was parted ever so slightly to one side, with one curl delicately hanging over his left eye. He looked murderous, brutal, menacing, and yet, Elena felt no fear. Why?

It was his eyes. Those startlingly blue eyes, that stared into hers so deeply.

He inched closer and closer, but she couldn't move.

She was hypnotized.

"Who are you?" she asked again, her voice a low whisper.

"You know exactly who I am miss," the man said, his voice deep and husky. "You know what I'm capable of."

He inched even closer, their bodies nearly touching. Elena felt her legs trembling.

"I'll yell," Elena threatened, her brown eyes widening at his nearness.

The man cocked his head, and a curious smile appeared on his lips. "Don't worry princess, I won't lay a finger a you," he lifted a callous finger to her pale cheek and lightly caressed it.

Elena cursed inwardly as her body betrayed her, blushing at his touch.

"Although," the man said with a grin, "I'd think you enjoy it."

Elena's eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. She opened her mouth to retort, but he covered her mouth with his rough hand and gave her a playful smirk.

"Like I said, I won't touch you like _that_. I'm in a bit of a hurry as it is."

Elena glared at him, struggling to escape his grasp.

The man wagged a finger at her. "Nu-uh-uh. No yelling until I'm out of this room. Then, you can scream bloody murder all you'd like. I'll just be taking this," The man grabbed the candlestick holder, setting it back on the drawer. "And this," he snatched his music box from Elena's hand and placed it back in his trouser pocket.

He slowly removed his hand, and backed away from her, heading toward the window. As he pulled aside the lace curtains, Elena flashed to his side and tugged at the sleeve of his robe.

"Wait, please," she said, her voice soft. "At least tell me your name."

The man looked back at her, a strange, gentle look in his eyes.

"The name my mother gave to me is Damon," he said with a glint of sadness in his ocean-blue eyes. "But the name I'm called by everyone else, is another entirely. One you needn't know."

He pushed back the curtains to jump out, but hesitated slightly, and turned back to Elena.

"I may not have hurt you tonight miss, but others like me wouldn't hesitate in doing so. Lock your windows."

And with those last words, he was gone.

* * *

"It's the Captain! The Captain is back!"

Stefan grinned as Damon jumped onto the deck, removing the burlap robe over his hood.

"Thank the gods, Capt. I was getting worried there for a second."

Damon let out a harsh laugh as he threw the robe over the edge of the ship. "After everything we've faced, you think I'd meet my demise in a merchant town? Thought you thought higher of me brother."

Damon gave his brother a grin, grabbing his black tricorne from him, placed it on his head, and turned to face the rest of his crew. They were a rough and scrappy bunch, ranging from the broad muscular mercenaries to the thin, scraggly runaway convicts.

"Why were you in town Captain? If you don't mind me asking," asked Tyler, the hot-headed ship cooper.

"Let's just say I had some needs to fulfill," Damon said, winking.

The men hollered and wolf-whistled, many of them groaning.

"I have needs too!" several yelled.

"Don't worry boys," Damon said loudly, as he headed up to the helm. "You'll get your chance soon enough. For now, haul up that anchor and set sail!"

"Where are we headed Captain?" asked Alaric, the ships' master gunner and Damon's closest compatriot.

Damon looked out into the vast ocean and smiled. "I'd say it's about time for The Virginia to visit San Ferdinand, don't you agree?"

* * *

**House of Gilbert**

"Missus Elena, breakfast is served."

"I'll be out shortly, thank you Clare."

Elena turned her gaze back out the window, her eyes closed. She lifted her gloved hand to her cheek, remembering that man's touch.

_Damon._

She snapped her eyes back open and shook her head rapidly. What was wrong with her? That man was a trespasser, who had clearly been running away from someone. She should have yelled for the guards the moment she had spotted him in her room.

But she had been curious.

Why had he said that she knew who he was? Was he more than just some runaway convict?

She let out a loud sigh, before smoothing down the skirt of her brightly colored gown. It had been a gift from her bethrothed. It was a dark teal color decorated with large orange and red roses, and a ruffled collar. Beneath the bosom, which was greatly accentuated, were three blue bows. The same shade of blue as…

Elena shook her head again, furious with herself for letting her thoughts wander to that mysterious man.

She hastily made her way to the dining room, where the rest of her family awaited her. The dining room was lavish indeed, but the table was the center of the room. The servants always outdid themselves for meals.

"At long last Elena, we were about to commence without you."

"I'm sorry for the wait Uncle John," Elena said sweetly, as Clare pulled out her chair. "Thank you Clare."

"Is that a new gown?" Jeremy, her younger brother asked, attempting to make conversation. It was always an awkward environment with her uncle.

"Yes, it was a gift from Lord Lockwood," Elena said, with a small smile.

"Well the man certainly has good taste," John said, as he piled ham onto his plate.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. It was no secret that Elena's suitor did not meet his fancy. He didn't think he was worthy of Elena's love. But, it didn't matter what Jeremy or even Elena thought. It was her uncle's decision. He had become their sole guardian when her parents had died several years ago, and was the one in charge of their inheritance. Elena couldn't inherit a thing until she was either married, or turned 21. But even when married, her entire inheritance would fall into hands of her husband. Which was to happen in just a couple days; when she would become Lady Elena Gilbert of Lockwood.

That would be the day she truly had no more freedom.

Her mind wandered, again, to the mysterious man from last night.

She wondered what life he led, who he ran from, and why he was hiding underneath the robe of a monk…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the dining room door. In walked their short, stocky servant Martin.

"Master Gilbert, Lord Lockwood wishes to speak to you."

John immediately stood up. "We must not keep him waiting then. Show him to the parlor."

"Yes, sir," Martin obediently replied, as he stepped out.

"If you excuse me," John said on his exit.

Jeremy looked over across the table at Elena with a raised eyebrow.

"Surely Lord Lockwood knows these aren't visiting hours. Something must have occurred."

Elena dabbed at her lips with the side of her cream-colored handkerchief.

"A matter of politics, I suppose."

Jeremy shook his head. "At this hour? No." Setting his napkin down, he stood up. "Let's go find out!"

Elena's eyes widened. "You mean eavesdrop?"

"Come on Elena, you are his future wife anyway. I'm sure he wouldn't mind much if he caught you hearing."

The mischievous twinkle in her brother's eyes and her ever-so-present curiosity got the best of her and she hastily followed her brother out toward the parlor.

Elena and Jeremy stopped before the entrance to the parlor, leaning against the slightly opened door.

Through the slit, Elena could see her uncle's back as he paced the room nervously.

"Are you certain it was him?"

Lord Lockwood shook his head, gripping his cane tightly.

"Not certain, no. But it was definitely one of _them_."

"What was he doing here? Isn't he aware of the bounty on his head?" John said angrily, his voice sharp.

Lord Lockwood shifted on the couch, taking a moment to slightly adjust the curled white wig on his head.

"I haven't told you the worst part yet John," he said, his voice lower than before.

"What could possibly be worst?"

Lord Lockwood stood up, the golden hawk figurine on the top of his cane glistening. "There are reports from a witness that claims _he_ entered this house last night."

John gaped at him in shock; as did Jeremy to Elena. Elena began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Impossible," John spat out. "I have guards outside our house day and night."

"The witness says," Lockwood continued, "that the man climbed in through an open window."

"Oh no," Elena muttered.

"Through the window of Miss Gilbert's chambers," Lockwood finished, his voice bitter.

Shocked, Elena tumbled forward into the door, almost knocking herself and Jeremy down.

"Elena," John exclaimed, his face beet red. "Come here child." He grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her toward Lord Lockwood.

"Is what the witness said true? Did a man enter your bedroom chambers last night?"

Elena looked from John's crazed eyes to Lockwood's angry ones, afraid for her very life.

"Of-of course not Uncle," she piped out.

"If you're lying," John said, raising an angry hand in the air.

Before Jeremy could run to play the hero, Lockwood grabbed John's hand and pushed it down slowly.

"Now, now John. Let me talk with my betrothed."

Lord Lockwood gently, but firmly, grabbed Elena's arm and pulled the shaking girl toward the couch.

"No need to be afraid Elena, we just need you to be honest."

Elena nodded. "I'm not lying my Lord. No one entered my chambers and if they did, I was asleep and he did not harm me."

Lord Lockwood gave her a stern smile, before he kissed her hand slowly and stood up.

"We must be extra vigilant John. We have no clue what the intentions of that man are."

He stood up to leave, but Elena took hold of his sleeve. He looked back at her harshly, and Elena quickly let go. "Pardon me my Lord. But if I may know, why are you looking for this man? Who is he?"

Lord Lockwood's dark eyes bore into hers as he furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. "That man is none other than 'Captain Salvatore.' A pirate."

Elena let out a loud gasp, her hand clutched at her chest. "A pirate?" she asked, stunned.

"He's a piece of filth," Lockwood angrily said through his teeth. "When I finally catch that bastard, I won't hesitate a second in running a sword through his cold, rotten heart."

Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing. A _pirate_. The man in her chambers last night, the man with the stunning blue eyes, that man…was a pirate.


End file.
